


30 Minutes or Less

by mutemail



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Fluff, Fluffy, M/M, love at first site, pizza delivery au, pizza delivery boy waylon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:34:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22627165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mutemail/pseuds/mutemail
Summary: Waylon scores a part-time job at a local pizza joint. A couple weeks into his stint, he gets a delivery across town to a house on the edge of their district. What follows can only be described as love at first sight.
Relationships: Eddie Gluskin & Waylon Park, Eddie Gluskin/Waylon Park
Comments: 9
Kudos: 121





	30 Minutes or Less

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little drabble I was telling my friend about. I started a pizza delivery job a couple days ago and it's a pretty sweet hook up so I felt particularly inspired by my good mood. Kudos & comments fuel my writing! If you are interested in an Outlast themed discord server make sure to read the note I've put at the bottom. Thanks, I hope you enjoy ♡

Hazy green eyes scan the massive screen spanning over the upper half of the delivery-run wall. He watches as other drivers maneuver to their deliveries, the toppers on their cars tracking them via GPS and recording their good driving scores on the leaderboard beside the map. Waylon glances back down to one of the two computers in front of him where upcoming orders are displayed along with available drivers. He’s next in line.

Two orders come out of the oven at the same time. Cool, a double pie. Out the building a bit longer and the chance at a couple more bucks. Waylon presses his name on-screen and checks the distance between the deliveries. Relatively close to each other but towards the end of the perimeter. He crinkles his nose a bit. The second delivery isn’t anywhere he’s been before, which isn’t unheard of considering how new he is, but still makes his stomach twist a bit knowing that he’s going to be driving in an unfamiliar place so close to dark.

He confirms the delivery before allowing his mind to wander. It doesn’t matter anyway, really. Every place is new once. A machine beside the computer spits out a number of receipts for Waylon to grab and sort through. One is a credit card order that’s pre-tipped a pretty little sum of four dollars, _score_ , and the one on the edge of the perimeter is a cash order. Again, not odd. It still makes that twist in his stomach shift a little tighter.

Waylon pulls an insulated bag from underneath the table and sets up the first delivery on top after double checking all the sauce packets and little extras included with the orders. Tickets in hand, he walks out the back door to his beat up Ford Festiva. The eggshell blue paint has long since faded and begun to chip but Waylon’s incredibly sentimental and cannot bear to replace her with something newer. He sets the carrying bag in his passenger seat before walking around to the driver’s and sliding into his proper place. It only takes a second before his phone is mapping the way to the first delivery.

The sun is dipping low in the sky by the time he’s gotten the signed receipt from the pre-tipped woman, her cherry red lipstick smeared a bit but a twinkle in her eyes as her children recreate a mighty battle behind her in the living room. Waylon gives a polite farewell before retreating to his car. He tucks the signed receipt into his pocket for safe keeping. The map on his screen dims from the usual brightness to a darker background to match the fading sun. Waylon hits the large “GO” button before pulling a U-turn and heading to the second delivery.

The trees grow thicker the further Waylon drives. He glances at the forest as it passes him in a blur, noting the distinct lack of other houses this far into the country. Finally, he makes a turn down a long drive leading towards a fairly upscale house. It looks a bit older if the architecture is any clue, and is surrounded by close-cut shrubbery that lines the front steps before disappearing around the back.

Waylon pulls his car to the side of the house about on-level with the front side before stepping out. He checks the ticket for its total while retrieving the bag with a spare hand. Kicking the door shut, he starts his trek across the lawn and hops up the steps. The doorbell is missing its cover and coated in a thin layer of spiderwebs so he knocks thrice instead. At first there is nothing but silence. Waylon steps back to glance up at the windows, looking for a light on or movement behind the curtains that might signal someone inside, at the same time that the door swings open and a broad-shouldered man steps forth.

The man’s hair is shaved on the sides and slicked back in a neat sort of mohawk, his eyes a piercing blue that make butterflies start in the bit of Waylon’s stomach. The driver offers a shaky sort of nervous smile as every word he’d rehearsed dies on his tongue. _Damn._

“Hey, uh, your total is, uh--.” Waylon immediately fumbles with the receipt, nearly dropping his pen before managing to slap it to his chest to catch it. He gives a lopsided grin to the taller man as he falters. Between them in the background the car topper lights up as dusk settles in around them. Eddie wobbles in place with a more hesitant, but nevertheless adoring, smile on his lips. Waylon quickly fixes the receipt before checking the total for the upteenth time.

“Looks like it’ll be fourteen sixty-three, sir.”

Eddie fishes around in his pocket for the bills he had prepared without taking his eyes off the delivery driver. He finally holds out a wad of something, mostly ones but also containing bigger bills, with the same star-struck look.

“Keep the change, darling.”

A blush rises up Waylon’s neck to settle heavily on his cheeks. He crams the money into his pocket without bothering to count it before opening the velcro of the bag and retrieving the food. Eddie takes the box from his hands with a more subdued smile.

“Have a great rest of your night.” Waylon smiles again awkwardly before dipping off the front steps and back towards his car with a bit of a skip in his step. When he gets into the car and looks back to the house, the door is already closed but the flutter in his chest remains. He rubs one hand over his face. Puts on the map back to the store. Turns up the music. Already, he’s musing about if Eddie will be ordering again anytime soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Interested in an 18+ Outlast themed discord server? Look no further! Read more about it, and find how to join, [here](https://deathgardens.tumblr.com/post/190729973021/outlast-discord-server-18)!


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